


Two minutes of your time

by Julara



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julara/pseuds/Julara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon's frustrations lead to an outbreak on the flight deck - which leads to Blake explaining some things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two minutes of your time

“Dammit, Blake, what is it you want from me?” Avon’s outburst actually silenced the flight deck for once, it sounded a bit too raw, a touch too plaintive. He made no attempt to call it back, however, simply stared harshly at the man he was sure would be his nemesis, who had again ignored his suggestions and taken off down what anyone could tell would be a foolhardy , idiotic route to danger and probable death. For himself this time.

Avon was trying to convince himself this made it better, but it had led directly to a near admission as he saw it. Hopefully Blake would blindly read it as simple frustration. Which it was, of course, just not for the reasons Blake presumably believed. He stood, furious and waiting for the self-pitying justifications of his [unwitting and denied] leader’s bloody and beloved cause.

Blake himself, breathing steadily despite their furious altercation, now raised one eyebrow; he opened his mouth then glanced round the fascinated crew and shut it again, thought for an unnoticed – by everyone except Avon – nanosecond, and came back with a bland “Your support with the mission, of course.”

But Avon had noticed and a slight frown creased his brow. He dropped it too, but was tense for the next twenty minutes until they both came off watch and tangled unaccountably – Blake’s spatial awareness was excellent when he wished it to be, as was Avon’s, it was astonishing [really] that they ended in each other’s arms so often during the Liberator’s various disturbances – and Avon found Blake murmuring into his ear; “If you really want the answer to that question, come to my cabin prepared to give me two minutes of your time without fighting”. Then he was suddenly disentangled and Blake had left. 

 

*****  
“Well?” Avon, truculent and uncertain.

“Come in.” Blake was looking at him, really looking. He was calm, leaning against the desk, but had changed into his loose white shirt. “I meant it, Avon, I can answer your question but I want your word you will give me two minutes of your time to do it.

‘Do what?’ wondered Avon, amused now despite himself and considering what in space the man believed he could convince Avon to help him with in just two minutes that needed privacy. _‘Doubtless something he does not think the others will agree to, yet he thinks I shall? Unlikely, but what’s two minutes?’_ “Very well, Blake. You have your two minutes. What wild plan have you concocted for our consideration that you need my assistance to convince the others?”

“Blake?!” A sudden wild startlement as the other man came to him, something very different to argument now in his eyes. He said nothing but raised one hand to Avon’s face; softly smoothing his skin in a touch that had Avon trembling in a second, never mind a minute. He took another step into Avon’s space and now both hands were lightly cupping his face, fingertips running over brow, cheeks and lips. He didn’t rush at all and Avon closed his eyes involuntarily as the gentle, erotic, loving touch smoothed over them too.

Then one hand was curving into his hair, the other travelling down his shoulder and back to hold him close as Blake bent his head a fraction and kissed Avon. Slow, so slow. Lips caressing, tongue just touching but Avon moaned then and opened to him. Still he didn’t rush but tempted and loved Avon, then he dipped inside his mouth for a deeper kiss.

Avon’s back hit the door. His arms were round Blake, as tight and possessive as Blake’s were around him. Blake’s tongue was in Avon’s mouth, tasting once, then withdrawing as Blake fought to ease the kiss back to something gentler again. For a moment Avon was puzzled – he was very aware his reactions were strongly positive, Blake couldn’t possibly miss it. Then his poor ignored heart twisted as he realised Blake’s sense of honour would not permit him to go too far in what could be considered a violation of Avon, regardless of the two minute agreement, knowing it had hardly been given with full disclosure of intent. He tugged urgently to get the man to follow through, then, when that had no effect – no surprises there- he leant further into the kiss himself and licked into Blake’s open mouth. _That_ got a response; Blake groaned and went for him. _Excellent._


End file.
